[Author's Note: This fic was caused by an amalgam of Shiri being on edge for an entire week, listening to Lifehouse, and the fact that I've been meaning to write a philosophical Q/Rel fic (the last didn't go as planned, but I'm satisfied for the moment read as: there'll probably be a sequel to this). This combination leads to the whole fic being written in one day. O_o | BGM for the first half of this fic would be "Quasimodo" and the rest "Simon" both by Lifehouse on the "No Name Face" album. Click the links for the lyrics and you'll understand my inspiration. ^_^ ]

Mon, Jun 12, AC 199
"Winner-sama, we need this approved by one o'clock."
"The ATL-59 opening needs to be confirmed today, Winner-sama."
"This is the bill for L3-C2816's docking permits."
"Winner-sama, the satellite agreement for L5 is due in an hour."
Winner-sama, of the Quatre Raberba variety, tried to sit at his desk while only wanting to either collapse under it or flee the room. These last two weeks had been a strain. He must have read and signed at least two hundred construction proposals -- all of them genuinely good, of course, yet at the moment there was simply too much going on. He resisted the urge to let his knees fold as he stood -- though maybe if he did collapse they'd let him get in a breath. He slammed his fists down on his desk. "Silence!!" Everyone shut up merely from shock. "Now, in order by deadline! Thank you, gentlemen!"
The group of paper-wavers hastily reorganized themselves -- it was amazing how efficient people could be when Winner-sama showed his anger. Midway through the line was one of his assistants who sheepishly offered a cup of now-cold coffee and the schedule for the rest of the week. Quatre waved away the cup. "Next time, just cut around with this, hmm?" He resisted the temptation to spill the coffee into the garbage can so everyone would know his frustration. Instead the blushing assistant reclaimed the cup and Quatre glanced over the schedule. He paused on Friday afternoon. Then in a blink he scribbled his signature to confirm all the arrangements for each day except Saturday. The assistant blinked and Quatre gave an odd smile that left all who witnessed it wondering how Winner-sama could look so unnaturally calm after his demeanor in the previous hour.

Thurs, Jun 15, 199 @ 9:00 a.m.
"Minister Dorlian, the conference has been moved to eight o'clock tomorrow morning."
"I need you to review this report from the Mars installation, Minister Dorlian."
"Minister Dorlian, the Vice President is waiting on line three..."
Relena was seriously considering changing her name again. If she did, no one would be asking her to sign twenty different papers a day.
"Miss Relena?"
The soft voice was a welcome sound after she had dealt with a dozen or so items. The change in address was also refreshing. She looked up at her secretary, who smiled. "Sorry. Even I'm tired of hearing 'Minister Dorlian' twenty-four/seven. I have your schedule for tomorrow in place now that they're done rearranging meetings." She began to read off the items and Relena nodded to each. "...Twelve-thirty is the conference with the veep, two o'clock is a meeting with Mr. Quatre Winner of L4 to discuss new satellite placements, and, by some miracle, there is nothing yet planned for the rest of the day.
Relena didn't even hear the last part. All she cared about was that name. Quatre...Winner...Finally, someone normal! The phone rang and she leapt to answer it, sounding infinitely more cheerful than she had during the past hour.

Thurs, Jun 15, 199 @ 11:00 p.m.
Quatre was glad that no one was around to see him packing. For starters, he had a suitcase, which would normally be overkill for one meeting -- he was, after all, expected to be back by Saturday afternoon, shuttles and time zones allowing. But also, no one need see what exactly he was packing, other than reams of proposals for satellite usage.

Fri, Jun 16, 199 @ 2:00 p.m. according to Ms Dorlian's watch, but in reality 1:52 p.m.
Relena paced beside the white wrought-iron table at the small bistro where she was to conduct her last meeting. She was so grateful to be out of the series of stuffy offices from the morning that she didn't care if she was meeting with Duke Dermail. The rest of the tables in the garden-like setting were empty, dispelling her encroaching claustrophobia further. She checked her watch again. One minute later than she last looked. She increased her pace. It wasn't like Quatre to be late -- he had always been early in all other meetings she had attended with him.
Footsteps approached across the slate path to her table and she whirled around. There was Quatre, bogged down by a briefcase and an undignifying stack of papers. She couldn't help it. She uttered a moan of disconsolation.
"Do you really hate me that much?" Quatre pouted over the pile which he set on the table after teetering past her.
"No...just the friends you brought with you." She took the top paper and began skimming it. To her surprise, everything was filled out already. She glanced up at Quatre, perplexed. He gave her a sly look, which confused her more -- she hadn't known him capable of such an expression.
"I'll make you a deal, Ms Dorlian. You forget Heero Yuy for a bit, and I'll forget my fiance`, and we'll get out of here."
Taken aback, all she could manage to sputter was, "But what about this?"
"Already done. The satellites will be used for the same thing they've always been used for." He grinned. "You have exactly five minutes to decide." Then he glanced at his watch. "Four and a half."
"Three. Let's go." Relena rustled up a grin.
"Good." Before she could blink, he grabbed her hand and forced her to dash along with him down a path that led to the street rather than into the restaurant.
Three and a half minutes later a waiter wearing a red fez exited the restaurant and collected the stack of papers and two briefcases left behind.

Fri, Jun 16, 199 @ 2:30 p.m.
Relena Dorlian did not expect to be breaking into her own house. Well, breaking wasn't exactly the word for it, but it sounded more adventurous that way. Still, she was swiftly learning that Quatre's days of military training weren't too far behind him. He got them into the house without anyone noticing. As they entered her room he handed her a reinforced burlap satchel. "Get some casual clothes -- I assume you have some, right? -- and stay here until I return -- ten minutes at the most." He waved then disappeared out the door.
Relena stared after him, a bemused smile on her face. She would expect this type of behavior from that Duo Maxwell guy. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he had cut and bleached his hair. Shaking off the image of a braidless Duo, she set about finding her dusty non-formal clothing.
Exactly nine and a half minutes later Relena and Quatre met again, both surprised by what they saw -- she stood on the corner on the far side of the house out of sight from those within, and he was pulling up on a black motorcycle. He took off his helmet and met her eyes, both staring at the other. Then they burst out laughing. "Black leather -- denim jeans and a red midriff -- no one will ever suspect us to be Winner and Dorlian!" Quatre continued laughing as he climbed off the bike and handed a second helmet to her, then took her bag and secured it inside a compartment behind the seat.
"Quatre, where in the world did you get that?" She swept his leather clad form from boots to eagle-embossed jacket with a mock-appraising eye.
"As I said, who would expect Quatre Raberba Winner to wear such uncomfortable garb?" He folded his arms in as if feeling confined, then grinned. "It's worth it if no one notices. And you?"
She shrugged. "Jeans are the best I can do. The shirt was a gift from Hilde, and she knew very well that I would never wear it."
"And those?"
She glanced down at the brown leather boots he pointed to. "Gift from Miss Noin."
"I suspected as much."
They donned the helmets then climbed onto the bike. Relena tentatively put her arms around him. "Um..." She blushed.
"Don't worry. You should hold on tight anyway -- I haven't driven one of these in a while."
"Um."
He laughed. "I'm joking. We're not us right now, remember? But please hold on, I can't afford to lose you."
This time she chuckled as she did as he said.
"If you happen to get cold I have another jacket."
"Black leather?"
"You bet. Ready to go?"
"Where are we going, anyway?"
"You'll see."
She just knew he had on another of those sly grins that he had adopted for this performance. He revved the engine and soon they were speeding away from the unsuspecting house on Sanc Kingdom Lane.

Sat, Jun 17, 199 @ 1:30 p.m.
Amazing, Relena mused to herself as the wind tore her hair back continuously during their trip down a dusty highway -- a dusty highway in Arizona, North America. What she was amazed at happened to be the lengths which Quatre was capable of. He had gotten them aboard a high-speed carrier -- and off -- without anyone noticing, again, and now here they were, half a world away from where they had been less than twenty-four hours ago, and no one even knew about it. Come to think of it, perhaps it shouldn't be surprising that he could manage the stunt -- having been a Preventer on and off for the past four years, he probably had to deal with people doing that exact thing -- so he would know how they did it, and, more importantly, how to not be caught.
The desert they zipped through now was proof why Relena wasn't overly fond of summer, so she didn't need the extra jacket. Quatre on the other hand didn't seem to be bothered by the heat at all. A desert prince, she reminded herself. She sat up a teensy bit higher to let the wind cool her face, grateful that she didn't have to worry about appearances for once. Quatre obviously wouldn't care if her hair was a complete mess -- unlike anyone she would have had a meeting with today. She thought about this for a moment, and briefly her hold on Quatre tightened as she regretted everything that might have gone awry -- but then she loosened up before he noticed, and flung her regret to the wind. She wasn't Minister Dorlian now, so why should she worry?
Quatre had, however, felt the squeeze. He couldn't really blame her, since he was gripping the handlebars harder than necessary -- his hands were starting to hurt, so he knew he would have to stop soon to take a break. His mind was on a certain someone who would be worried sick about him if he didn't send word soon. But, he wasn't Quatre Winner just then, so maybe he should lose his concern...
A sign advertising a rest stop came up, and Quatre sighed with relief. Stopping in the middle of nowhere was not appealing. He slowed as the exit came into sight. It coursed down an incline and curved toward a small alcove below the highway where a few pale buildings huddled. A cheap, four-room motel, a gas station, and a fast food restaurant greeted them. "Ah, what erosion will do to the Crown Plaza and Bella Notte," Quatre quipped, citing two of the more expensive places he had visited. He kicked down the brake then climbed off, removing his helmet.
Relena tried to get her hair into some semblance of order, turning to deposit her helmet on the bike but stopped to laugh at the equal mess of mashed-down bangs that graced Quatre's head. He hastily tried to fix them, then shrugged it off. He smoothed them aside enough to be able to see then started toward the restaurant.
Relena caught his arm. "Let's not stay too long, just in case..."
"Looking like this??" He gestured at himself, the dust-covered pants and demolished hair, and gave her an incredulous look.
"You never know..." she began tentatively, then sighed. "I guess you're right." All the same, she was wondering if they should have kept their helmets on...
The dreary-eyed cashier barely lifted his head when they entered. "Restrooms?" Quatre inquired. The cashier pointed to his right. They walked to the door beside the counter. The sign read 'RE TR OM '. Quatre held the door open and then gaped -- two stalls, and no 'Men's/Women's' sign. He took an offended step back. "Oh, my..." His face colored slightly. "Um, ladies first." He took another step back, allowing Relena to enter. He waited patiently and didn't notice the odd look the cashier was giving him.

Sat, Jun 17, 199 @ 4:30 p.m. Lunar Time -- three hours ahead of the non-Winner/Dorlian
Sally Po came rushing into Chang Wufei's office waving a report. "Whatever you're doing, drop it. Prime Minister Dorlian and Quatre Winner have gone missing."
"Both at two different locations?" Wufei questioned, preparing to jump for the necessary search options.
"No. They were having a meeting at Sanc. Apparently they got their work done then completely disappeared."
He scowled. "Winner should have been able to handle any problem."
"Yes, I trusted in that. But...there hasn't been word in twenty-four hours."
Wufei leapt from his seat.

Sun, Jun 18, 199 @ 8:00 a.m. MST
"I suppose it would be something one would have to get used to," Relena yawned, referring to the hideously uncomfortable beds in the motel. She stretched then reclaimed her helmet from Quatre.
"Agreed." He made an exaggerated stretch, arching his back, then snatched up his helmet. "All right, let's get going!"
"Now where to?"
"Um, nowhere specific in mind." He shrugged. "Anywhere that isn't a stuffy office full of papers being shoved in one's face..."
Relena nodded her agreement, and they set out for the highway.

Mon, Jun 19, 199 @ 9:02 a.m. -- East on Highway 53
"Gonna be a long trip, kid. Next stop's halfway through the state." The truck driver looked across his cab at the nondescript young man who was too old to be called 'kid', and who was also very much distracted by some kind of pocket radio he had held to one ear. He had on a uniform that looked like it belonged in outer space, one shoulder marked by a triangular logo.
The driver sighed and put his attention back on the cliff road he was following. I hate tight turns...

Mon, Jun 19, 199 @ 9:03 a.m. -- West on Highway 53
"I hate these cliff roads!" Relena complained, knowing Quatre might not hear her due to the wind but wanting to speak her nervousness away. "That wall always seems too close!"
"We're on the opposite side," he managed, "And we're not that high up anyway..." He went back to paying attention to driving lest she become even more nervous.
Something piqued at the back of his mind very suddenly, causing him to swerve just as a truck horn blared around the bend.

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(c) 2001-2004 Autumn Loweck. This work may not be copied, distributed, or reprinted without the author's permission. Characters of Quatre, Relena, Heero, Sally, Wufei, Trowa, Zechs, Mariemeia, Une, Duo, and Duke Dermail belong to the creators of the GundamWing series, Sotsu Agency, Sunrise, Bandai, and whoever else in Japan involved in this most cool anime.